


MANIC

by pixiekpop



Category: GOT7, K-pop
Genre: Mental Health Issues, Mentions of sex but no actual sex, Minor Character Death, Multi, One shot for now but may become chaptered, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiekpop/pseuds/pixiekpop
Summary: "The mania is like wasps under the skin, like my head's going to explode with ideas" - Alice Weaver Flaherty





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as a completely original piece with my own characters, but I decided to morph it into a Got7 fanfiction for fun. Minjae is just a random name I came up with for their child, not a specific person. Tell me if you want this to become a chaptered story or if it's fine as a one-shot. Feed back is always appreciated!

Surely a tattoo artist would see the meaning in tattoos, right? Permanent ink on your body is nothing to think lightly about. Park Jinyoung used to care a hell of a lot about his. Irrational decisions doubled with manic depressive tendencies bleed through his skin. A planet behind his ear. A date on his chest. A dream outlined, mapped out but not followed. And at this point he doesn’t make the best tattoo artist because his hands shake and shake and shake and there’s nothing he can do about it. He wants desperately to go back to his youth. To go back and maybe just be fucking happy again. He wants to feel his husbands love again. Back to their honeymoon when they ran around the country and kissed under willow trees because back then cliches were alluring and perfect. But the cliche of sickness ruined the once young couple with everything going for them. Jinyoung twists the silver ring on his finger, silver because gold gives him headaches. Mark used to laugh like the fucking sun and tell him that he was being irrational about price and that’s why gold stresses him out. He knows why now. Gold is meant for princesses and kings and beauty, not delirious 40 year old men who don’t take their medicine and tattoo little dots all over their body like tallies trying to forget. He used to call Mark his king, jokingly at first. He even bought his king a crown on his birthday, iridescent and gold. Maybe that was his fatal flaw. Maybe it’s because he was raised on Catholicism. Maybe it’s because he broke the first damn commandment. Do not worship false gods. It was hard not to see his husband the way you see a god. God’s light up your life, they make suffering disappear. Maybe he should beg for forgiveness they way he would to God. Beg for love. Apologize for destroying what they had with his disaster of a mind. Mark Tuan. God. If Mark is a god, what is Jackson? Jesus maybe. Like a god but more human, more flaws. He still has his Jackson. Bound only by the bronze couple necklaces Jackson insisted they buy and years of pretending like it’s not weird for his Jackie to love both him and Mark. If Mark was his king, Jackson was, is, his partner in crime, his best friend, and fellow subject. What kind of artist would he be if he didn’t find some sort of poetic irony in all of this insanity. And now he’s lying on his bed, the one that used to belong to their son, staring up at the ceiling wondering why never punished said son for painting on the ceiling. Rebelling against authority he supposes. Viva la revolution is the last thing he thinks before his king calls out to him. 

“Get up. You haven’t taken your meds today have you”

“I haven’t in weeks, nice of you to notice” 

And with that Jinyoung pulled up by the collar of his shirt, face to face with the monarchy. He questions briefly if this is how Brutus felt when he was stabbing Caesar. The difference of course is that Jinyoung could never go against his emperor, his life, his breath. Pills are being shoved down his throat now, then water to wash them down. It crosses his mind for a split second that maybe he is loved when he’s being thrust down back on the bed, a kiss pressed to his jaw. Jinyoung laughs. Cynical laughing, as he contemplates if he should remind his dear husband that normally a kiss like that would start something a lot more heated between them. Hands slipping under shirts and rough touches, coupled with soft words and care. Too bad normal went out the window a long time ago. They haven’t touched like that in months. It’s a shame really. Almost all relationships can be worked out through great sex and he knows Mark would love to pin him down to the bed. Something he’s learned over the years, love can disappear but sex appeal generally doesn’t. He wonders if Mark is as frustrated as him, or if he’s taking out the frustration on the Jackson. Or some random guy at the gay bar downtown. 

Speak of Beelzebub, the devil’s assistant ha get it?, Jinyoung notices that Jackson has entered the room. 

“Looks like you two are getting along swimmingly. I’m glad, it’s been getting very stressful for me. Always having to compensate for that whole my husband doesn’t love me any more thing” Jackson laughs dryly “Are my jokes really getting that old? You know there was a time when you both loved my humor. Do you know how to laugh anymore? Or did that go away too?”

Several more soft giggles later, Mark turns on his heels, gently kisses Jackson and walks out of their home. ‘You used to be gentle like that with me’ thinks Jinyoung. 

“Don’t mind mr. look at me I’m almost 40 and still act punk, yeah? He’ll come around”

“He took off his ring. Did you notice”

“I did”

“Why?”

The question hangs unanswered in the air. 

“Let’s to the creek. You need to get some fresh air. I talked to your doctor, you know the one that gave you those ridiculously expensive meds you refuse to take, he said the outside is therapeutic”

“You hate nature. There are too many bugs and the humidity messes up your hair”

“I’m willing to risk it”

His hand is suddenly full of Jackson’s and he’s being dragged out of his little hidden paradise. Time is ticking for the once vast empire, starting with the lose of it’s citizens. He’s terrified that if he leaves the room will disintegrate, disappear like their kid, like their happiness, like their love. He wonders again how the hell Jackson is still so happy. For all intensive purposes, Minjae was his son too. He wonders even more how manic depression and paranoia spons from the lose of a child. His therapist says he’ll get over it. Says that he’ll forget. A part of him wants to, to forget about the pain that tears through him every night when he sleeps in his baby’s room, or anytime he sees his husband. He knows, he really really does that it’s horribly unfair to equate the father of his child with the death of his child but they look nearly identical so when he sees his husbands face, he cries. Still, the other part of him screams that forgetting the pain is like forgetting the existence of the human embodiment of sunshine that was their child. 

He’s laughing again. Giggling like he used to when he was young and naive. Giggling like the time they were 19 and went to the lake for the first time, the minute they actually decided they wanted to go swimming and Mark slipped over a rock falling into the water fully clothed. He loved that cabin house next to the lake. They both did. It was the house they fell in love in, before they met Jackson and gave a portion of their heart to that odd Chinese boy who desperately wanted to love with them. They spent all three months of the summer there. Falling for each other and making love to the dim fire light. The day Minjae was born they bought that house. Deciding that they wanted to raise him surrounded by light and water and trees, unlike the city highrises they grew up in. They moved out when Minjae was 5, Jackson convincing them that he needed to go to an award winning school district in the city, only the best for their little boy. 

They’re at the creek now. Jackson sitting on the edge, dipping his feet into the water urging Jinyoung to join him. Jackson sets his arm Jinyoung’s shoulder and kisses his cheek. From behind them, he hears a voice calling to them sounding suspiciously like a certain king. Cliche as it is, for the first time in months Jinyoung thinks that maybe the empire could rise again with time.


End file.
